


Christmas and Cursed Cookies

by geckogirl7



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Curses, Gen, Humor, Hurt Clint Barton, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Peter Parker has a very brief cameo, Poison, Sick Clint Barton, Vomiting, Whump, Whump Advent Calendar 2020, gingerbread cookies, stephen strange has a terrible bedside manner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28220658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckogirl7/pseuds/geckogirl7
Summary: Clint and Natasha find themselves investigating a dull Christmas gala. Clint decides to help himself to some gingerbread cookies. Then Stephen Strange shows up and magical bullshit ensues. Clint really hates his life sometimes.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	Christmas and Cursed Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Whump Advent Calendar 2020 prompt for Dec. 16th-18th "The smell of gingerbread and vanilla." One of the word prompts was "poisoned," so I went with that. 
> 
> I had meant to do Whumptober and then I intended to do the Whump Advent calendar, but ended up only getting one prompt done. With everything going on this year, we just have to be patients with ourselves and accept that we aren't going to complete all the things we want to do this year. 
> 
> Content warnings for language and vomiting. 
> 
> Bonus points for anyone that catches my stupid Infinity War reference. 
> 
> I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays!

The gingerbread cookies stared at him from the plate, their frosted outstretched arms beckoning him. So far the gala had been boring, and his suit was becoming unbearable, so Clint decided to indulge himself and have a cookie. There was still a whole platter of them— apparently those attending this party felt themselves above childish Christmas treats. Clint however had so such scruples and had never met a cookie he didn’t like. He bit off both the cookie’s legs as he surveyed the room.

Natasha was at the bar, holding the attention of several men, none of which knew she could kill them a hundred different ways with her bare hands. The house band continued to play horrendous jazz renditions of Christmas music. He was pretty sure this was supposed to be “Jingle Bells,” but the saxophone player was a little too enthusiastic with the riffs, disrupting the flow of the song, and the drummer had his phone in one hand and appeared to be scrolling through Facebook. Clint sighed and bit the head off the gingerbread. This was going to be a long night.

After about an hour of unbearable small talk with snobbish people Clint made his way out to the balcony. He had consumed two more cookies and hadn’t found anything of interest, other than the fact that the person throwing the party had shitty taste in music and décor, but awesome taste in baked goods.

“Anything?” Clint asked.

“No,” Natasha replied, stepping out of the shadows, “I’m beginning to think this is a bust.”

“Sure seems like it.”

The holiday gala was being held by a newly made millionaire that had struck it big in the jewelry business. He was a rich asshole, but he checked out. However, they had gotten a tip that someone might try to sabotage the gala out of jealousy or malice or whatever. The point was that instead of being at home watching the _Dog Cops_ Christmas special with Lucky, Clint was stuck at this stupid party.

Clint winced as he felt a sharp pain in his stomach.

“You good?” Natasha asked. She hadn’t missed the slight look of pain, even in the dark.

“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have eaten those burritos for lunch.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “That taco truck is barely legal. You’re just asking for food poisoning.”

“Wade Wilson eats there all the time!”

“My point exactly.”

Clint stifled a groan as his stomach clenched. He didn’t feel nauseous, his stomach just hurt like a bitch. He was starting to sweat despite the cold air on the balcony. This night just kept getting worse and worse.

“You good for the rest of the night?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah, it’ll pass. Hopefully. Let’s get this shit over with,” Clint said, walking over to the door. When he looked behind him Natasha was gone.

He walked in to see Natasha already walking to the bar. Even after all these years he still had no idea how she did shit like that. Clint grabbed another cookie from the tray, hoping that the ginger would help settle his stomach.

He kept to the perimeter of the room keeping an eye out at a distance. He stumbled slightly as his leg cramped up. He quickly caught himself and walked it off. He had probably pulled a muscle while he was training today.

He grabbed a glass of water from a nearby table, spilling some on his jacket as he took a sip. His hands were shaking.

“Get it together Barton,” he muttered.

He had completed missions with stab wounds, burns, and concussions. He couldn’t let a stomach bug or whatever the hell this was trip him up.

That was easier said than done when his vision swam for a moment and he had to grab onto a table to steady himself. He quickly made his way back towards balcony, hoping the fresh air would help. It was hot as balls in the room and his tie felt like it was strangling him.

Between his slightly blurry vision and his focus on his destination he didn’t see that tall figure around the corner until he smacked into him.

“Sorry man,” Clint said as he walked past. He suddenly stopped, doing a double take. “What the hell are _you_ doing here?”

“It’s good to see you too,” Stephen Strange replied, rolling his eyes.

The sorcerer was dressed in a dark suit and Clint almost hadn’t recognized him without his robes and cloak. That and the fact that his stomach was killing him to the point where he couldn’t see straight.

“I have reason to believe there’s a sorcerer here that intends to cause harm tonight,” Stephen explained.

“Wonderful,” Clint sighed. The last thing he wanted was to be involved in some magical bullshit tonight.

“The methods would most likely be subtle,” Stephen said, scanning the room, “I can detect some form of magic present, I just have to figure out where.”

“Have fun with that,” Clint mumbled.

The shitty jazz music was starting to make Clint’s head pound. He was starting to sweat and his muscles were tensing up.

Stephen was so focused on locating the magic that he didn’t notice Clint’s distress. He swiftly made his way into the room.

Clint decided to abandon his plan of going out to the balcony. He was unsteady and was afraid he would end up falling off the balcony or some stupid shit. He squinted and saw Natasha on the other side of the room. He shakily made his way over, breathing through the stomach pain. He was going to report that fucking taco truck to the health inspector, Deadpool be dammed.

“You look like shit,” Natasha said, eyebrow raised in concern.

“Thanks,” Clint replied, shakily sitting down in a chair.

“Do you need to go?”

“Probably,” Clint shrugged.

They both knew he wouldn’t. If he was still conscious, he would see the mission out.

“What the hell is Strange doing here?” Natasha asked.

Clint didn’t see the sorcerer at the moment, but he knew Natasha wouldn’t have missed his arrival.

“Something about a sorcerer attacking the party with some magical bullshit…I dunno.”

Natasha’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the fact that Clint was slightly hunched over, sweaty, and shaking.

“Hello Strange,” Natasha said.

Clint turned, wincing against the vertigo. Somehow Stephen had managed to walk up behind him without him noticing. He was holding a gingerbread cookie. He wouldn’t have taken the sorcerer as the type to indulge in Christmas cookies. 

“I’ve found the source of dark magic,” Stephen stated. “It’s an ancient curse that functions as a poison and only targets one’s enemies.”

Stephen gestured at the cookie.

“A gingerbread man?” Natasha asked, looking skeptical.

“The spell has to be bound to an effigy. A gingerbread man is in the shape of a person, and this time of year no one would bat an eye at it. Fortunately, it looks like no one was stupid enough to eat them,” Stephen said glancing around.

It was then that he noticed how pale Clint looked.

“Fuck,” Clint cursed.

“You said the spell targets enemies? We don’t even know whoever cast it,” Natasha pointed out.

“You’re here to stop them from sabotaging the gala. By that simple fact you’re their enemy,” Stephen quickly explained.

Clint was now slumped forward as the stomach pain and dizziness had increased.

“How many did you eat?” Natasha asked him, pushing some of the sweaty hair off his forehead.

“Four,” Clint groaned.

“For fuck’s sake. They’re glowing slightly. They look evil,” Stephen pointed out.

“I thought it was some sort of fancy pastry technique or some shit, I don’t know,” Clint sighed.

Now that Stephen mentioned it, the cookie did have a pretty pissed off expression. But he was too consumed by the pain now wracking his body to really berate himself for yet another bad life choice.

“Is there an anecdote?” Natasha asked.

“Fortunately, yes,” Stephen replied.

Clint groaned suddenly, clutching his stomach. He was visibly shaking and his muscles were seizing up.

“We need to get him out of here now,” Stephen said.

“Time to go Hawkeye,” Natasha said, throwing one of Clint’s arms over her shoulder. Stephen did the same on his other side. It was awkward going due to the height differences between the three, but they slowly made their way away from the main room. 

“What about the rest of the cursed gingerbread?” Natasha asked, hating that that was an actual legitimate question. Her life was so weird.

“I threw them through a portal into the dark dimension. Merry Christmas Dormammu.”

The three made their way out the door. They fortunately didn’t draw much attention since people just assumed Clint had had too much to drink.

“Didju catch the sorcerer?” Clint slurred slightly.

Stephen nodded. “I threw them through a portal too.”

“Into the Dark Dimension?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Into a cell at Kamar Taj. I’m not _that_ much of an asshole,” Stephen replied.

The three rounded a corner into an alley. Stephen looked around, satisfied they were alone, and pulled out his sling ring.

Luckily casting portals was second nature to Stephen at this point and he was able to do it even while holding Clint up.

“Let’s go,” Stephen said as they practically dragged Clint through the portal.

Clint blinked his eyes against the sparks of the portal. He felt like he had a bad case of the flu and had also been run over by a semi. He was hot and sweaty and his muscles were burning and tight. His stomach also felt like it was on fire. It was all he could do to breathe through the pain and stumble along. If it weren’t for Natasha and Stephen he would be on the ground.

They crossed through the portal into the Sanctum. Stephen directed Natasha to set Clint on a nearby bed while Stephen rummaged through a cabinet. Natasha rubbed a comforting hand through Clint’s hair.

“You hanging in there?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah,” Clint sighed.

Stephen finally found what he was looking for and came back with a glass vial. It was filled with a thick black looking liquid.

“You need to drink this,” Stephen said, taking the top off.

“That looks like some shit out of Skyrim,” Clint grumbled. Maybe he’d just take his chances with the gingerbread poison curse.

“Clint…” Natasha said in a warning tone. Clint knew if he didn’t drink it Natasha would kick his ass and then make him drink in anyway.

“Fine,” Clint muttered. He took the vial from Stephen with a shaking hand. Natasha put her hand over his, steadying him, and helped him guide the vial up to his mouth.

Given the potion’s appearance Clint had braced himself for something disgusting, but it wasn’t actually that bad. Either that or he felt so shitty he didn’t care. Clint drank down the rest of the black liquid and Natasha took the vial, setting it on a nearby table.

“Here, “Stephen said handing him a large bowl.

“What’s this for?” Clint asked.

“Just give it a second,” Stephen replied.

Clint suddenly pitched forward and violently vomited into the bowl. He was barely able to catch his breath before he vomited again.

“You could have warned us,” Natasha said, glaring at Stephen as she rubbed Clint’s back.

“You think he would have drank it if I told him what it did? It’s better than the other option, that one causes explosive diarrhea in addition to vomiting. It’s more effective, but I figured you’d prefer this choice,” Stephen explained.

Clint glared at him and then loudly vomited a third time.

“How long is this going to last?” Natasha asked.

“Until the poison is out of his system. Given how much he ingested, probably an hour or so,” Stephen replied.

“I hate you. So much,” Clint groaned, his head in the basin as he continued to vomit.

“We might need to empty this,” Natasha said, gesturing at the bowl.

“It’s spelled to automatically empty,” Stephen stated.

“Let me guess. It empties into the Dark Dimension?” Natasha replied.

“Yeah,” Stephen said, smirking.

“Oh my god it’s glowing,” Clint moaned after throwing up yet again.

“Yeah, luminescent vomit is one of the side effects,” Stephen said with a shrug.

Natasha closed her eyes and sighed. This was going to be a long fucking night.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a long hour of Clint vomiting up everything but his internal organs (although he wouldn’t have been surprised if a few of those had come up as well), Clint finally collapsed back against the bed.

“That really sucked,” Clint gasped. He felt like he had torn every abdominal muscle and cracked most of his ribs.

“It was the only way,” Stephen replied.

“Please tell me the curse or poison or whatever is finally gone,” Natasha said.

Stephen held out a shaking hand and a gold wave of energy rushed over Clint.

“It is,” Stephen confirmed after a moment. “Now he just needs rest and fluids, he’s probably pretty dehydrated.”

“Bruce can hook him up to an IV back at the tower,” Natasha stated.

Normally Clint was a nightmare to deal with when he was injured or sick, but now he was so exhausted he probably wouldn’t put up too much of a fight. She hoped.

Stephen opened up a portal and Natasha helped an exhausted Clint through.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three Weeks Later

It was Christmas Eve and the team had been hard at work decorating. Peter Parker put the last layer of icing on his gingerbread version of Avengers Tower and took a small step back, admiring his work. It turns out that building with Lego so much really paid off when it came to gingerbread assembling.

“Nice job.”

Peter jumped as Natasha came up behind him. She was one of the only people who could sneak up on him given his spidey senses.

“Thanks,” he replied.

He just needed to place some gingerbread men around the tower entrance and he would be done. He grabbed a cookie and was about to place him when suddenly he felt a tingle. Shortly after there was a whistle and an arrow pierced the gingerbread right through the heart.

Natasha laughed at the wide-eyed look of confusion and surprise on Peter’s face as he held the arrow-pierced gingerbread man. She saw a blur of purple out of the corner of her eye and smirked.

Needless to say Clint didn’t eat any gingerbread cookies that Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> I was totally picturing angry glowing gingerbread and Clint's just like "seems legit" and chows down. 
> 
> It felt good to write again. As I said above, I had intended to write more this year but 2020 kicked my ass. Between the pandemic, getting laid off, some health issues, starting a new job, losing a beloved pet, trying to finish my last two semesters of grad school, and being quarantined for COVID exposure it's been a bumpy ride. But I'm doing ok all things considered and hope that things settle down so I can write more next year. 
> 
> I hope everyone stays safe and is able to find some joy this holiday season in spite of everything going on.
> 
> BTW look at the stupid art I made of the evil cookies [on my Tumblr](https://geckogirl7.tumblr.com/post/638141834791731200/christmas-and-cursed-cookies) I am in no way an artist, but I had fun making it lol.


End file.
